City of Jade (34 page)
Authors: Dennis McKiernan
Outside, the captain confidently surveyed the crowd and smiled and nodded and smoothed his moustache, clearly in his element. But that self-assurance was suddenly shattered when the locked front door of the gaol opened a crack and fetters and shackles clattered out on the stoop and a voice called, “Might I have my clothes now?”
With their fortnight engagement at the Clearwater successfully concluded and their gear packed and ready for pickup and shipment, the buccen sat at breakfast in the Sturdy Oar and talked of bypassing all other towns and taking their show straight to Caer Pendwyr. They speculated that High King Ryon and Queen Dresha and their children might actually come to see their performance. But as they pondered their future, Bandy, one of the printer’s street urchins, came flying into the foyer, shouting, “Guv! Guv!” He dodged past innkeeper Oates, who had leapt forward in an unsuccessful attempt at capture, yelling, “Off wi’ y’! Off wi’ y’! I’ll nowt ha’e no—”
But Pipper recognized the voice of the lad and called for him to come to the dining room, much to the shock of Tarly, who threw up his hands and wondered what was an innkeeper to do if just anyone could let riffraff in.
Bandy rushed into the room and to the table where the buccen sat. “I seen it, guv. I seen it floatin’ by. Them what took it put it on a barge. It’s off to Rivers End.”
“What’s off to Rivers End, Bandy?” asked Pipper.
“Why, that chest of yours, guv, th’ one with th’ flames and all.”
29
Purloined
FIRE AND IRON
MID AUTUMN, 6E6
MID AUTUMN, 6E6
Both Warrows leapt to their feet, Binkton shouting, “
What?
”
Even though Bandy was a good head taller than either buccan, the boy flinched back, as if expecting to be hit.
“He said, Bink, that our—”
“I heard what he said, Pip,” Binkton snarled, “that some Rûck-loving, rat-eating thief has stolen our chest.”
“It’s got all of our rig in it, Bink,” said Pipper.
“I know that! I know that!” snapped Binkton. “I was there when we packed it, remember?”
“What I mean, Bink, is: until we get it back Fire and Iron is more like Ashes and Mud.”
Binkton smashed a fist to the table, setting the dishes arattle. “I know, I know, Pip.”
“Well, then, Bink, we’d better get a move on.”
“Where will you go?” asked Bandy.
“To the Clearwater,” said Pip, “and then to the docks. We’ve got to find—”
“The rat eaters who took it,” spat Binkton.
As Pipper and Binkton started for the door, Bandy muttered, “Rateatin’, he says. Wull, I say roasted rat ain’t too bad, guv.” Then he trotted after the Warrows.
“As soon as we find out what we can at the Clearwater,” said Pipper as they reached the street, “we’ve got to book passage to Rivers End and recover our gear.”
“And deal swift and sure justice to the thieves,” added Binkton.
Pipper skidded to a halt. “Hoy, now, wait.”
Binkton pattered along a few steps and stopped. “What?”
“I’ll be right back,” shouted Pipper, and he bolted into the Sturdy Oar.
Binkton fidgeted for long moments, and then started toward the steps just as Pipper came bursting out, their duffles in tow.
“I settled up with Tarly.”
“What for?”
“Just in case there’s a boat or a barge leaving for Rivers End. I mean, it’d be a shame to miss the next one out.”
“Right, Pip. Good idea,” said Binkton, and he took his duffle bag from his cousin and hefted it over his shoulder. “Now, come on, let’s go.”
Down Mudlane to Tow they hurried, Bandy jogging along at their side. Into the Clearwater Binkton charged, Pipper following, Bandy stopping just inside the door. “Tager!” shouted Binkton. “Tager Lynch!”
A few of the habitués blearily looked up from their mugs. They were well into their cups this early in the morning; it was clear they had been here awhile. Serving the shoremen of the port, the Clearwater never closed, for comings and goings across the Argon were never-ending, day and night year-round, though it slowed in flood season. And so the customers eyed this small person—Ah, yes, one of the Warrows—and it seemed he was riled. With interest they watched as Binkton looked toward the barkeep, who jerked a thumb over one shoulder. Binkton’s gaze swung in that direction, and he spotted the proprietor at a back table near the passage to the storerooms. Tager looked up from his ledger and cocked an eyebrow as Binkton stormed across the room, Pipper at his heels. “What Rûck-loving, rat-eating son of a Troll stole our chest?” demanded the buccan.
Carefully, Tager set down the pen and closed the book, as if he didn’t want the Warrows to see any entry therein. Then he looked at Binkton. “Stole your chest?”
“That’s what I said,” growled Binkton.
Tager raised a hand of negation. “I know nothing about that chest of yours.”
“Maybe Bandy was mistaken,” blurted Pipper, and he darted into the hallway and to the small compartment he and Binkton had used as a dressing room. Moments later, Pipper was back. “It’s gone, Bink.”
Tager called to the bartender. “Jess, did you see what happened to their trunk?”
“The one with the flames?” called Jess.
“What other Rûck-loving one would there be?” snapped Binkton.
As Jess wiped a mug with a bar cloth, he strolled over. “No more’n two or three candlemarks ago, a couple of Rivermen came and took it. They said you sent them.”
Binkton cast an accusatory eye at Pipper. Pipper shook his head. “Not me, cousin.”
Binkton then glared at Jess. “And you just let them take it?”
“They said you’d sent them. And, after all, we knew you were leaving.”
Binkton’s lips thinned in anger and he spat, “Rivermen!”
“Do you know who they were?” asked Pipper.
Jess shook his head.
“What’d they look like?” asked Pipper.
“What good will that do?” growled Binkton.
“If we’re going to find our chest, we first need to find them,” said Pipper.
“Oh, right,” said Binkton, then sighed and added, “At least one of us is thinking.”
Again, Pipper turned to the barkeep. “What did they look like?”
Jess shrugged. “One was big and burly, the other small and skinny.”
“Color of hair, eyes?” asked Pipper.
Jess shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”
“Aargh!” growled Binkton. “Big and burly. Small and skinny. That describes half the people in town.”
“You’re right,” said Pipper, “but maybe the workers at the ferry docks will know who they are. Let’s go, Bink.”
Binkton shouldered his duffle and cast a glare at Tager Lynch, then spun on his heel and stalked off. Even as they reached the door, Jess called out, “Oy, now, something I just remembered.”
Pipper stopped and looked across the wide room at the man.
“One of them, the big one, called the other Caker, or Waker, or something of the sort.”
“Rats,” muttered Binkton. “That’s no help.”
“Thanks, Jess!” called Pipper, and out onto Tow the buccen went, Bandy trailing after.
Tager watched the Warrows go, and then opened his ledger and looked at the figure he had early this morning jotted within and smiled to himself.
Pipper and Binkton spent most of the day asking questions and receiving shrugs in return, but then Bandy suggested that they talk to the pier master. Judd Leeks, though, was a very busy man, and his answers were terse. But he did tell them the barge that had gone downriver just after sunup was tended by the
Red Carp
, a barque assigned to the task of keeping the barge in the main river current and of pushing the flat-bottomed craft to Barge Bottom Shore just north of Rivers End. And, no, he didn’t know of any flame-painted chest, nor of anyone named Waker or Caker. And, yes, there would be another craft going that way first thing in the morning, the
Otter
, another barge tender.
Binkton and Pipper booked passage on the
Otter
. They tried to give Bandy a silver for alerting them and the help he had been, but he took ten coppers instead. “That way, guv, I’m less likely to lose it all should anyone find out I’ve such wealth.”
Otter
. They tried to give Bandy a silver for alerting them and the help he had been, but he took ten coppers instead. “That way, guv, I’m less likely to lose it all should anyone find out I’ve such wealth.”
That night on the
Otter
, the ship yet docked at the barge piers, belowdecks Pipper started awake in his hammock. Lightly he swung down and padded to Binkton’s canvas. “Bink, Bink,” he hissed.
“Wh-what?” Binkton wildly grabbed at the sides of the heavy canvas sling. Not being the acrobat that Pipper was, Binkton had had a perilous time first just trying to get into and then to remain in the swinging bed. And as if unwilling to upset anything, while gripping the cloth tightly he carefully turned his head and, by the moonlight seeping in, he looked at his cousin. “What is it, Pip?”
“I believe I know who took our chest.”
“Who?”
“I think the name of the small, skinny one wasn’t Waker or Caker. Instead, I think it was Queeker. Recall those two at the Black Dog, ’cause if I’m right, the burly one is Tark, and they—”
“Rûck-loving, rat-eating—!” Binkton shouted and lurched up, and his hammock flipped over, the buccan to thud to the deck.
30
River Drift
FIRE AND IRON
LATE AUTUMN, 6E6
LATE AUTUMN, 6E6
The
Otter
set sail just after dawn, tending a barge loaded with sawn timber, the lumber itself from the Greatwood, that vast forest a Baeron protectorate in South Riamon.
Pipper and Binkton stood in the bow of the barque and watched as the little tender sailed about and nudged the barge this way and that to keep it more or less midstream of the mighty Argon River.
Captain Vení, an Arbalinian by birth, who had left that isle years past to become a river pilot and then a captain, came to stand beside them.
“How long till we reach Rivers End?” asked Pipper.
“The city, she be some hundred leagues down the waterway; and the Argon, she flows nigh a league each candlemark, twenty-four candlemarks a day without rest. So, if all goes as planned, we be on the drift a hundred candlemarks altogether.”
“Four days and a bit, then,” said Binkton.
“You know your ciphering, I see,” said Vení.
“We were well taught,” said Pipper, “by Uncle Arley back in the Bosky.”
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